Swan Song: Part I

"Where's your other half?" the postal clerk asked me yesterday. Wow, I thought, somewhat taken aback, he actually recognizes me. Wouldn't you know, just as we're about to leave, we've become "locals."

Having been cleared for take-off by all institutions concerned, we're closing on our new apartment in Brooklyn this week and, in all probability, this will be my last post.

Westward ho

I haven't had the opportunity to live on the East End since I was a teenager. We relocated when I was thirteen and I vividly remember sitting at the kitchen table in our house in Huntington as my parents broke the news that we were moving to Montauk to open a motel. Just what every 7th grader wants to hear.

"Where are you taking us?" I wailed. "It's the end of the world. There are no people out there."

Well, I'm here to tell you it was true then - I graduated Montauk Public School in a class of 10 - and it's true now. Only my perspective has changed.

Montauk in winter is still a small town at the end of the known world - for Long Islanders, in any case - where the deer probably outnumber the residents. It's desolate and isolated.

There is great beauty in that.

I hope you've enjoyed reading about winter in this hamlet as much as I've enjoyed blogging about it. Thanks for sharing it with me.

I was going to end this blog with that ubiquitous "The End" sticker, but somehow, this seems more fitting...